Midnight Toxicity

22.

We continued down the stairs, and as chill as Chace came across, there was a certain edge to him I couldn't put my finger on. Although his hair and glasses made him seem approachable and smart, I had a hunch that he wasn't being completely honest about his ties with Golding. Even Marie, with her smug confidence, did not call our boss Andy.

"What's your specialty?" I probed, "I have no clue why Mr. Golding brought me here, but why are you?"

My question stayed unanswered as he hurried along. When we reached the wide foyer, he took off to the left, and I followed. A long hallway split in different directions, and he headed right. My stomach perked up at the delicious smells invading my senses before entering a kitchen that looked immaculate but welcoming. The walls were a soft yellow. A pang of sadness rose in my breast, remembering when Jack offered to paint our new place any color I wanted.

Two women sat at an oval table with four chairs, mixing something in bowls. The older one jumped to her feet to greet us. She had short gray locks and wore silver-rimmed glasses perched on the tip of her nose. The other girl blocked herself off, concentrating on her baking.

"You must be Charlize," she greeted me warmly. "I'm Mrs. Bitters; over there is my niece, Chloe."

"Hello," I smiled awkwardly. "Nice to meet you both. Sorry if we're interrupting."

She waved a wrinkled hand. "We were expecting you. If you are hungry, I made a sandwich. We serve meals at six, noon, and seven. There are snacks available, but do not rummage through my cupboards without permission. I leave plenty of food out for the group, and deliveries come once a week."

I nodded, appreciating her no-nonsense vibe. "Thanks. I have mostly survived off ramen noodles and nachos. Homemade meals will be amazing. I'm taking the tour. Can I swing back by in a while?"

She grinned, returning to the table where Chloe peered at us through her dark fringe. "No rush, it's in the fridge."

Chace remained quiet during the entire exchange with a stoic exterior, making me wonder if he disliked unnecessary conversation or if they had gotten off on the wrong foot. She seemed sweet as pie, but as I found out earlier, first impressions mean little around here. I turned to follow him out of the kitchen with a small finger wave at the women.

The dim lighting caused the narrow hall to feel creepy as we arrived at the rear of the house. He opened a varnished door, and my nose twitched at the damp smell of soap. My jaw dropped at the interior of the bathroom. It was much more than showers.

In the front space, a marble counter sat in an alcove facing a bank of floating sinks with an expanded mirror, exposing the awe on my face. I ventured deeper into the room, taking in the multi-colored tiles lining individual shower stalls with huge waterfall showerheads. It looked inviting, and I couldn't wait to wash the sweat of the busy day away.

"Where are the—" I started in confusion, seeking the toilets.

"About that." He rubbed his scruffy jaw. "We passed the crappers coming down the hall. There's one on our floor too, but the other girls have taken it over, so you'll have to fight for your right to plaster on a pound of makeup."

"Oh, don't worry, I will." I exhaled in relief. The concept of taking a dump where my roommates listened was appalling. "This place is nuts," I cackled, turning to catch Chace's amused expression. "I guess remodeling a bathroom for ten supersedes bedrooms."

He chuckled, leaning against the vanity. "What's the matter? Afraid to sleep next to a man you just met? From what I've heard, that's something you excel at."

I crossed my arms, ready to defend myself. His judgmental tone let me know someone had gossiped about me. "What's that supposed to mean? Want to tell me what I am doing here? I'm tired of getting the runaround while being expected to jump through hoops."

He cocked his head with a smirk. The overhead lighting made his hair appear ghostly. "Mr. Golding said you're a high school dropout. A petty thief with no real-world experience. But..." He ran his tongue along his lower lip, heightening my anger when he paused dramatically. "My measuring stick for people is their actions, not what others say about them."

"Deep," I pursed my lips. "I won't stay here if Golding hopes to make money keeping me on my back. He didn't lie — I am a dropout. Before today, I've never been outside of TC, but that doesn't mean I'm expendable."

"Why did you even come here?" He threw up his hands, curiosity in his eyes as he raked them over my body. "It doesn't matter. We are stuck together."

"Doing what?" I demanded, beyond exasperation.

He coolly regarded me. "Consider me the tech part of our little duo. To answer your earlier question, I am here because I owe Mr. Golding. I'm also twenty-one and not into drama or loose women."

Ouch, he's into inflicting harm.

"Wow, what a way to contradict your previous non-judgmental statement. Is that a personal best?"

"What?"

"You're playing head games, but listen to me closely, Chace." I straightened my posture, looking him dead in the eyes. "I would hate to think the man Golding partnered me with was an uptight prick because the knife I hid is nothing compared to the objects around here I will use to fuck you up if you don't treat me with respect. We don't have to like each other, but we need to get along. Can you do that?"

His cheek twitched, but otherwise, he remained impassive. I slid in front of the mirror to check out my frizzy hair, waiting for an answer. Screw this guy and his belligerent attitude. I cringed at my reflection. That long walk earlier had my hair and makeup looking like I lost a catfight.

He startled me when he pressed a palm to my spine. The unexpected touch gave me chills. "You're too pretty for such violence. Whoever has hurt you in the past deserves that repressed anger, but not me. At least, not yet." His warm breath breezed over my heated cheek when he whispered, "We're good, Charlize."

I swallowed, stumbling away from him. Not accustomed to men like him backing down so quickly, I flicked my ponytail, faking indifference. I thought he would argue or run to Golding requesting a new sidekick, but he surprised me with his gentleness.

I cleared my throat. "Great, we're in agreement. I have dinner to eat and a shower to take. You can leave. I'll find my way around."

He pushed his glasses up with his middle finger. "Are you sure?"

I silently nodded, and he left without another word.

My feelings towards Chace were changing, but I still managed to take that guy's wallet. Ignoring the pang of guilt when I checked out the contents, I smiled at the empty pockets inside. It was as if he knew I would try something.

To wade through this mess intact, I would have to learn to curb my tongue.

I'm in so much trouble, with no idea why the hell I flew to Ala-fucking-Bama!